


I Made You (Now You're Mine To Keep)

by TheSilverQueen



Category: Basic Instinct 2, Casino Royale (2006), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: #EatTheRare, #EatTheRare Fest, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Casino Royale AU, Fluff without Plot, Inspired by the Cannipal Cinema, M/M, hannigram AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:05:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8069146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverQueen/pseuds/TheSilverQueen
Summary: No matter what the doctors say, Le Chiffre will always mourn the loss of his eye. Despite all the time and therapy and practice in the world, the loss affects his depth perception to the point where he’s a fairly clumsy person now, where he was once had the grace of a dancer. He bumps into tables, knocks over lamps, and reaches out to shake hands that aren’t there.
But it’s okay. Because he’s got a guardian devil, ready and waiting to swing down and enact vengeance. 
Alternatively - In another world Adam Towers survived and stumbled into the path of Le Chiffre's tutelage





	

**Author's Note:**

> My second (and totally unplanned) contribution to the Hannibal Cre-Ate-Ive's [#EatTheRare](http://hannibalcreative.tumblr.com/post/147505188389/the-hannibal-fandom-is-not-only-a-creative-and) challenge! 
> 
> Also partially inspired by [this interview](http://mikkelsenmads.tumblr.com/post/150021144042/i-was-probably-the-clumsiest-villain-in-the) Mads gave about playing Le Chiffre that made me giggle. 
> 
> Finally, let's just pretend that at the end of Casino Royale, instead of Le Chiffre getting Bond, the people whose money Le Chiffre came after him first, thinking he was an easy target. (Spoiler: He's not.)

The human body is an amazing thing. It can repair bone and skin and muscle, and – even in time – repair the brain and regain control of flailing limbs. However, this repair work takes time, and sometimes, as the body ages, it takes even longer to reach something not even close to what was normal once upon a time.

This, Le Chiffre feels every single day.

He is not a man prone to regret, of course. He sees the variables, judges the opponents, and takes action, and then never looks back. Every new obstacle is a learning opportunity to be gained, not an obstacle to falter against. 

Still, even he sometimes wistfully remembers the days when he had two functioning eyes, instead of one. 

That’s not to say he doesn’t admire the times when the sight of glassy eye puts the fear of death into his victims. He does. He especially loves using flickering low lights and minimalist cages, so that his victims fear they’ve gone mad and are hallucinating this tall man with one good eye and one missing eye weeping blood as he leans over and smiles in the dark. He loves it even more when they realize they _aren’t_ hallucinating, and this is the last man they will ever see, the face they will take screaming to their grave and beyond.

Yet that’s not to say that having only one functioning eye does not have its drawbacks. His depth perception has never quite been the same since, and his dancer’s grace has given way from making him a deadly foe to be feared into an average, melt in the background villain, who utilizes his grace to accommodate for his missing eye. In short – he bumps into tables, he knocks into lamps, and once or twice, he’s actually tried to shake hands that were not there.

It gets tiring, is all Le Chiffre wants to say. It gets tiring to constantly be on guard and alert, twisting and turning to adapt sudden run-ins into meaningful movements and cover up missed social cues.

Le Chiffre loves his work, and he doesn’t regret the advances he’s made since losing his eye.

Doesn’t mean that he never wishes about getting it back.

* * *

“You are the clumsiest evil villain head honcho I’ve ever met,” exclaims the very dull, very boring, and very young would-be-torturer.

Le Chiffre doesn’t even bother glaring. It’s far less effective when you’re hanging upside down, as he has unfortunately had enough experience to reconcile. Sometimes, after all, when you play the game of cards, you lose, and you lose big. And to say that Le Chiffre lost is a gross understatement.

The young man hits Le Chiffre again, and he sighs.

“What?” the man says defensively.

“That,” Le Chiffre tells him with another sigh, “is not at all how you throw a punch, much less attempt to punish someone. If you hit me any harder, you are going to break your thumb, for starters, and then I imagine you’ll trip over that mess to my left and break your nose.” He almost wants to say, “Young men these days,” but judging by the expression the man’s making, he probably doesn’t have to.

The man turns bright red, until he almost matches the blood splattered on his shirt. Never let it be said that Le Chiffre goes down without a fight. Even he knows better than to rely solely on bodyguards.

“You and your cockiness,” the man sneers, crackling his knuckles in a pathetic show of force. Le Chiffre could fall asleep to that sound, and he might very well do so if this young man wouldn’t stop bragging and talking about all these things he probably has never done to someone else and hasn’t the faintest clue how to do to someone else. “You won’t be half so cocky in a few minutes. You’re all out of trump cards, Le Chiffre! And everyone wants their money back. So start talking.”

Le Chiffre considers. Shakes his head.

After all, he’s not entirely without trump cards. He still has his last, greatest card to play yet.

“Hello, Galahad,” Le Chiffre says politely.

The young man barely has time to open his mouth before he’s brutally cut down by an avenging devil, teeth bared and drenched in blood. The poor man screams and begs for help, but Adam is single-minded in his fury, ripping and clawing and punching until the man resembles more of a bag of meat than a breathing, human body. 

Le Chiffre hums and enjoys the show.

* * *

“Where are you hurt?” Adam says abruptly.

It’s the first thing he’s said since he cut Le Chiffre down and chivvied him away, past the countless amounts of bodies Adam left in his wake, along with the many, many guns and knives and other various weapons he uses. If there’s one thing Adam is spectacular at, it’s improvising with everything and anything to make a lethal weapon. Le Chiffre’s favorite was when he ripped out a man’s throat with a pencil.

“No hello in return, Galahad?” Le Chiffre chides, unlocking the door to his closest safe house and walking upstairs to the bathroom.

Adam growls at him, glaring like a petulant little kitten instead of the ferocious creature of beauty he is. “Don’t call me that,” he snarls, flexing his fists. “You could’ve been _dead_ by the time I got there, why the hell didn’t you – ”

“Adam.”

Le Chiffre stops him with a word and a gentle hand on his cheek, and Adam melts, nuzzling against him until Le Chiffre is forced to sit against the toilet or fall over from the added weight. Adam is the only person Le Chiffre will ever be so gentle with, because how could he ever met this beautiful surrender with fierceness? This lovely sight of Adam, so trusting and perfect under his touch, so fearless and gorgeous? No, he will never ever raise a hand or voice to his beautiful boy, no matter what.

“I am alive. You found me. That is all that matters.”

“You still are hurt.”

Le Chiffre shrugs. “That is a fact of life, my dear.”

Adam grunts at him, and Le Chiffre is reminded of the day they first met. Adam had been a different Adam then, chatty and quiet in intervals, always masking old wounds under huge scarves and turtlenecks that threatened to swallow him whole. He’d been searching for a cure to his fear and his nightmares and his past, and Le Chiffre had nicknamed the boy his Galahad, searching forever for a holy grail, as it was. He’d shaped that fearful, soft child into a ferocious warrior, yet every time when Adam kneels before him, his breath is taken away again. Adam had heard his violent past, seen his terrible deeds, looked him straight in his missing eye – and yet still, even to this day, Adam has no fear of him at all. How amazing a man this creature is.

Le Chiffre will never, ever let him go.

“You found me,” Le Chiffre repeats, combing Adam’s curls back into place as Adam melts more firmly against him, nuzzling into Le Chiffre’s stomach as his arms curl around Le Chiffre’s legs. “And you always will.”

“Cuz you found me,” Adam tells him, soft as a whisper. “And you always will.”

And oh, the joy of it. Le Chiffre shaped Adam into who he is, and if anyone ever dared take his darling devil from him . . . 

Well.

God made the devil and let him loose upon the world. Le Chiffre made Adam, and he’ll never cage him. If anyone else tried, Le Chiffre will made God’s vengeance look like the mildest insult ever spoken.

“Yes,” Le Chiffre says, and hugs Adam back. “I will always find you.”

FINIS

**Author's Note:**

> So. We at Cannipal Cinema may or may not have watched Hugh in Basic Instinct 2 and Mads in Casino Royale back to back, and that may or may not have inspired this. Um. Shout-outs to Bethany for making a supercut and dealing with us when we all lost interest and went completely dead silent after Le Chiffre died!
> 
> All mistakes are completely and totally mine, as I kinda just sat down and poured out this mess in like an hour or two. But if you enjoyed it, please tell me in the comments or come say hi on [tumblr](http://thesilverqueenlady.tumblr.com) so we can enjoy all the Hannigram glory together!


End file.
